About

when the wine stops working
and you’re all run out
and all of your high hopes have all headed south
and the songs left the stable and they never came home
and there ain’t no forgetting that you’re out on your own

turned the scrub oaks to timber and you’re left without friends
and you don’t put your book down even after it ends
smoke curls up from the table in your quiet little room
and your heart’s worn the handle of an old pushing broom

broken bottles shine just like stars, make a wish anyway
just your smile lit a sixty-watt bulb in my house
that was darkened for days
been thinking you probably should stay

when the going is long gone
and the kick drum won’t kick
when you fumble with your fiddle and you’re fresh out of tricks
and the horseflies are biting but the fish never do
and your heart’s a thousand colors but they’re all shades of blue

broken bottles shine just like stars
make a wish anyway
just your smile lit a sixty-watt bulb in my house
that was darkened for days
been thinking you probably should stay
yeah, I think that you probably should stay

and our dreams on the windowsill
see those trees turning gold in the hills

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